


Just Fine

by Pathogenocide



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Blood, Bombing, Death, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pathogenocide/pseuds/Pathogenocide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life went on after the tragedy of the Plate Drop. The Shinra Company pinned the blame on AVALANCHE to ease the public and sweep the incident under the rug like nothing happened. Not everyone has completely moved on. Plagued by his past, Reno struggles to face his guilt in the only way he knows: Work, work, work, and never show emotion. Don’t be weak. But the guilt only gets stronger, even affecting how the Turks prepare for the next assignment. </p><p>Gift for Greenjudy. I hope you like this piece. I saw two of your prompts of Reno’s perspective and how the Turks get ready for their work. I wanted to try to combine the two. Please let me know if you want any changes. Thank you!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenjudy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenjudy/gifts).



“This mission will be simple. No thrills are to be expected.” Tseng begins, but knowing the nature of the Turks and their work, life can change from mundane dilemmas to dire straits. Nothing wrong with a little excitement now and again, but recently there’s been too much excitement. Though one of the Turk’s colleagues begs to differ. The other Turks listen carefully to what needs to be done. Elena writes down notes of the mission. She steals a quick glance of Tseng before dropping her gaze back to her notes. Faint pink creep over her face when he looks back at her. She’s still new. It will take time. Rude sits in silence. His back is straight unlike Elena hunching over while writing her notes in intricate detail. Arms crossed over his chest, Rude takes in the information. 

“We will be going to Wutai. Our target is Wutai’s National Museum located in…” 

The leader’s words fade from Reno’s consciousness. Reno is never the one to be traditionally professional. He idly scribbles on the note pad or rest his head on his shoulders. None of the Turks pay any mind. It’s just how the redhead works. He appears to be distracted by briefings and meetings, but he takes in all the important information. Reno always know what to do.

He’s not second in command for nothing.

But something is different about him. Reno leans forward, head resting over arms folded on the table. He’s been silent all morning. No snarky comments about what Kunsel said about the latest rumors. No sign of his impatience which was common in long briefings and meetings. His smile is hardly seen, his eyes no longer ignited with mischief. 

His blue-green eyes remain locked at the gray table. The entire boardroom is devoid of any color. Gray carpet, white walls with the long table a drab shade, much like the black and gray-blue chairs. The room’s vast window reveals that even the sky is gray with towering skyscrapers dingy. It’s all thanks to the flurry of smog that cloud the world. Reno snorts to himself when he realized that he nearly forgets what the sun looks like, and how blue the sky could be. 

Gray isn’t so bad, but Reno hasn’t paid mind to the dull hues around him. The Turk’s eye lids threaten to close, but tired as he is, Reno dares not to close his eyes. He is not greeted by darkness once his eyes closed. Instead he sees red. It has been that way nearly every night since. Sleep is a rarity. He would stay up for days and work. Work each minute, each hour away, until exhaustion takes over. 

It wasn’t long ago. Reno was there at the fated place. The Plate fell by his hand. Sector Seven is a grave loss to the people. Merely a few shoulder shrugs from most of the executives. They didn’t care to listen to Reeve Tuesti’s concern on rebuilding the sector. At least, that’s what Reno heard through the grapevine. The executives voted against Reeve’s proposal. It wasn’t worth the gil. 

But the incident of the Plate Fall cost far more than gil alone. No amount of money will reverse time. It won’t bring back the lost souls. It won’t undo the damage that’s been done. It’s as vivid on Reno’s mind as though it was yesterday. He welcomes Tseng’s droning voice, drowning the faint cries imprinted on his mind. It always returns when there’s silence. But the comfort of another person's voice won't last much longer.

“Reno.” 

“Huh? What?” Reno winces when a sharp pain strikes at his neck. The abrupt call shakes him from his daze. Sitting up as quickly as possible and turning his head to the side is what made him hurt. His slender and calloused gingerly rubs at his neck to ease the consequence of his whiplash.  
Tseng watches him for a moment before continuing. He clears his throat after pressing the button of the remote in his hand. The slide before him change from the mission’s objectives to the map of Wutai’s National Museum. “Do pay attention.” He continues, receiving only a nod from the other man. 

“Yeah, yeah. Got it, yo.” He picks up his cup of coffee. Reno’s eyes widen when he sips his coffee. It’s cold, much to his displeasure. He wasn’t paying any mind to it. Rude side eyes his partner. Reno hasn’t been the same since that mission. Stern as he is, he is concerned for Reno. After the Plate Drop, Reno was given a choice to debrief. Take some time off to collect his thoughts. He refused with a forced smile. He worked every day since then. Silent and deep in thought, it’s not like Reno at all. The rest of the Turks are just as worried but never utter a word about it. He worked from before dawn and long into the night. Whispers and fearful looks are all around when they found out Reno took care of his paperwork long before they’re due. It’s not like him at all!

“We should get to our destination this evening. That we’ll give us plenty of time to…”

Tseng’s words drift away from Reno. The pilot lowers her head, quiet as ever. Rude keeps his sight on Reno. There’s no telling what is going through his mind. He tried to confront Reno about his attitude. Reno only scoffed at his friend, denying everything the older Turk’s words. There’s no use in fighting him. Yet it doesn’t mean Rude stopped considering Reno’s well-being. 

It’s all coming back now.  
_Shit…_ Reno thought, his eyes shut tight. He holds his together on the desk. 

“The item in question will be at the new exhibit in….”

Even Tseng’s words doesn’t stop the sounds. People screaming before the tearing of metal and cracks of support beams takes over. Angry rumblings and roars mask the people’s pain. He saw it all. The plate’s fall moves in slow motion. It would seem that it’s an opportunity to save every man, woman and child who were cursed to live in the world below. They struggled in filth, fought for their lives and resort to various crimes. 

Selling drugs, dog fights, prostitution, and reaping the lives who had a hit called on them. Anything to put food on the table. They’re not doing that anymore now.  
It’s in stark contrast to the people who lived on top of the Plate. They fared better than the people below.  
The people in both parts of Sector Seven were so different. Now they are the same for they shared the same fate.

The people who lived below in Sector Seven will no longer fight to live another day. The piling bills, the worry of feeding their hungry children, the fear of still having a home. It’s all gone. The inhabitants ceased to be. The people who were better off on the Plate breathed their last breath. Like the people below, they too died. They will never wake up again, and it’s all Reno’s doing. 

Bright red splatter the flaming debris. Dilapidated houses and huts crushed by the immense weight of the plate. 

“Security will be tight in this section of the Museum. Elena, you and I will be heading to the north side of the area and…”

Reno no longer hears the hurried scribbles from the note taking. Eyes screw tight, yet the images never fade. His heart raced, the adrenaline pumped through his slender body moments before the Plate Drop. He was ready. He knew that lives were on his hands. It’s too bad. The mission’s goal was all that mattered.  
Midgar seems incomplete with Sector Seven gone. The President silenced the angry people following the drop. “AVALANCHE is responsible for this! They are true terrorists.” The president bellows on the television screen.

“But fear not, my good people. We have disposed of our enemies who lived in squalor below our feet. The people’s deaths will not be in vain! Never fear ladies and gentlemen. Our company will take care of everything. We will take care of you.” 

Those words dripped with lies. Reno remembers President Shinra’s speech. The victims were to be memorialized. So he says. Efforts to recover the bodies began the next day since the Plate Drop. Digging and drilling through layers of industrial decay and artificial remains that were once homes and shops. They removed every mangled body uncovered. The ground red with blood and the choking air thick with remaining smoke and decay. There were so many dead. The remains were unrecognizable. It didn’t matter. They were placed in deep trenches. Mass graves sprawled the ground until the news of not rebuilding the sector halted the search for the dead. The President’s orders were clear. They will seal the area soon. Sector Seven was once home to hundreds of people. Now it is their tomb.  
No one dared speak of the people who lost their lives. No vigils, no funerals. It was all AVALANCHE’s doing and that’s all that mattered.  
I had to do it! Orders are orders. That’s the same words that echo the Turk’s mind. 

“At eleven-hundred hours, our next maneuver…” 

No one expected him being the culprit. The Turks work under cover and no one dare to ask questions. Witnesses never heard from again. Yet he knows. The Turks knew all about this operation. It was their job, nothing more and nothing less. 

_It was for the greater good. AVALANCHE is our enemy._ Reno tries to convince himself. If anyone outside the Turks Department and top Shinra executives, he would never be forgiven. Reno can clearly hear the words they would say.  
_Monster!  
Murderer!_

The echoes grow in volume. It’s easy to forget that it’s all in his mind.  
_A job is a job. I did what I had to do. I’m-I’m not guilty. I never was._

He told himself this over and over. It’s something and he was willing to say anything to block the creeping pain that reside deep in his chest. The heavy sadness from the memory of seeing a small doll lying among the edge of the ruins. A stuffed behemoth, it was homemade with a missing button eye. The doll has seen better days, worn from being carried everywhere by the child who once owned it. The doll laid there, its tail and back singed. Red stains the doll, left alone close to a mountain of debris where a small hovel once stood.  
He left it there. Reno silently curses the sight of the doll. The grim reminder of the reality. There’s no blood in Reno’s hands this time, but they are always on his mind. It stains his memories. 

“Are there any questions?” Reno blinks when Tseng’s clear voice breaks through. He jerks back against the chair and releases his hands. His palms are sweaty, knuckles that were once white start to regain their color. 

Tseng’s sharp gaze scan the room. His eyes sought Reno and he holds himself back from sighing once more.  
“Good. You are dismissed. Be prepared for departure in three hours.” Everyone begin to leave their seats. Elena glances at Reno for a second. Her lips drawn to a thin line. She knows something is very wrong with Reno. She asked him if he was all right a few days ago. She caught the redhead in a bad mood. The woman kept her distance, she didn’t want to be on the hot seat. Not an ideal place for a rookie. Elena leaves the boardroom, giving her colleague another fleeting look before disappearing.  
Rude silently prepares himself to leave the room. He watches Reno for a moment. His partner doesn’t seem to notice. Thank the gods for sunglasses, they are a great way to hide the worry in his dark eyes. Reno will keep denying. Giving dark glares when someone asks about how he is. It’s how Reno deals with his emotions. He’s never the one to get sentimental. He has no plans to start now. He doesn’t want anyone hung up on him. Talking about what’s on his mind and how he feels, he just couldn’t do it. 

“Reno, a moment please?” Tseng adds, not reacting to the muttered curse that left the second of command. His eyes pin Tseng, dreading of what he will likely say. It won’t be another scolding for not paying attention. He’ll get the details he missed from Rude, or sneak into Elena’s notes. 

“Yeah?” Reno starts, waiting for the words that will make his blood boil.  
Tseng knows Reno very well. They worked together for years. He’ll have to choose his words carefully. “How are you feeling?” The man may not be surprised by Reno’s answer. “You seem to be out of it. You can leave if you need to. We can take care of the assignment on our own. I…I think you need a few days off.” The Turks always manage and Reno accumulated so much overtime for working nearly nonstop. 

Reno doesn’t say a word. Fury feeds into the mess of emotions that burn inside him. He much rather not be at home, left alone with his thoughts, and the memories. He leaves his seat and gathers his belongings, including the take-out cup of coffee that’s far too cold. It’s such a waste. Reno refrains from biting his bottom lip. He thinks on his supervisor’s words. 

He rather not be alone, doing nothing. He will do anything so he won’t reflect on himself, on his actions. Anger is something he’s used to. But the other emotions, though not entirely new, rear their heads, much to the pilot’s dismay. It’s not quite sadness. No, it’s something deeper than that. Something darker. It’s the guilt, the remorse of his actions that took away hundreds of lives in less than five minutes. He refuses to face those inner demons.  
Reno finally lifts his head to look at Tseng. An easy grin stretches his lips. His eyes shine bright to hold back the ugly feeling that weighs him down. He prays to every god he can think of not for the warmth building up in his eyes to be tears. 

“Don’ worry about it, yeah? I’m goin’ with ya. I told you before, yo.” Reno answers, doing his best to hide the pain locked in his heart.  
“I’m fine. Just fine.”


End file.
